Covid In NY
I was a ‘Novid’ for the longest time (never tested positive for Covid). Thought I was immune. Maybe I had the magical blood type (0) which supposedly offers more protection — but then God said “ha.”
I might have caught it during that Todd Rundgren / Daryl Hall concert. Who knows? If so, it was worth it. Why do we waste energy trying to figure out where it came from?
For me, Covid-ing in NYC wasn’t so horrible. I had seen a lot of my friends the week before and I really do enjoy being by myself. There’s no shortage of eateries from which to order chicken soup or Pho. No fever. No sore throat. No taste loss. Just … the cough. I’m grateful I had a box of Paxlovid and a vocal steamer on hand. Very helpful. I highly recommend.
The bummer was I just had my hair and nails done and now no one would get to see me. How’s that for narcissism?
But seriously. My friend Jorge came to my home in LA summer 2021. “Now this is a fine place to ‘pandemic’” he said when he walked into my yard. The outdoor space. The view. The Laurel Canyon breeze. Oh, I was I traumatized by the implications of a global infectious disease for sure but let’s face it, suffering is relative. I was in a bubble.
Over the last couple of years I’ve thought a lot about how much harder it must be to have the virus or live with it around you when you’re in a city. In the middle of winter. But having Covid myself deepened that introspection.
My daughter, who pandemic’d in Brooklyn, reminded me of how mentally and physically debilitating it was here. Small apartments. Room-mates to consider. Too cold to even take a walk. Or dine out. Backyards? LOL. Hey, even living alone where the sun is shining can be super lonely. No wonder all the depression, aggression, anxiety.
Ok then. Sigh … if I’m gonna do this, I’d better make the best of it. That attitude started slowly. Because the weather was superb and the streets were abuzz with covid-free Upper West Siders milling about — my favorite thing to do in the city — mill about. Me? I put on Mary Lou Williams, lit a votive, ordered in. I binged on For All Mankind only to be super disappointed when (spoiler alert) Gordo and Tracy burned up on the moon. 😳
The next day I did something I’m not particularly proud of and might regret sharing: I double masked and made my way to Central Park zig-zagging 50 feet away from all other humans and found a tree on which to lean. And … watched people. I love watching people and NYC has tons of people.
Not nearly close enough to overhear snippets of conversation and use them in song lyrics but … I sussed out unlikely couples, played guess the relationship, considered shoe choices and counted college sweatshirts — 2 Duke, 1 Yale, 1 Georgetown. Young people advertising their Ivy league prowess. I thought I saw Karen Bass on a Segway.
I had time to catch up on need-to-know matters such as the antics of Kanye — I mean Ye — and his fucking T-shirt which made Melania’s “I Really Don’t Care, Do You?” jacket-fiasco seem beige. (Read 10/10 Lefsetz. He’s spot on.) I heard somewhere that people are more interested in drama than truth.
Me thinks Ye only cares that he’s talked about. And here we are. So let’s move on.
You know, there was this sort of luxurious freedom of nowhere-to-be and nowhere-to-go. Because you have no choice. FOMO on pause. I could nap! It’s impossible for me to nap west coast. Between the doorbell, FedEx, Amazon, lawnmowers, ROBO calls on my landline (yes I still have a landline!), the cat meowing for a treat, there’s never a dull enough moment. But here in a bedroom in the back of a building, it’s peaceful.
I got through my 3-hour songwriting class by muting myself to spare my students the coughing and the Kleenex. And I had a great book to read — Shantaram (especially engaging after my songwriting adventure in Mumbai). When I needed more fresh air I went up on the roof and gandered this: other roofs! Thrilling!
Trust me — I’m hyper mindful that my Covid experience and my convalescence wasn’t as bad (or drawn out) as it could have been pre-vax or if it had been 10°f in the Big Apple! Current protocol says to quarantine for 5 days and then one can mill about again … with a mask on for 5 more. I might not have gotten to enjoy NYC to its fullest this time — to ride a citi bike to The High Line or run the reservoir. But (when my isolation was over) I got to sit on a blanket with my kid in Prospect Park.
And I definitely gained some perspective —
Nobody’s immune. Everyone’s gonna get it. It was my turn.
It’s not the end of the world … unless you die! 🫤
My empathy grew 10-fold for those who aren’t in a situation that allows them to pandemic as easily as others.
Here’s to looking at the bright side (3 months of immunity), forcing those silver linings and learning at a young age the benefits of enjoying ones own company. It comes in handy sometimes.
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I always loved this track. I feel you, Macy.
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